


Fear

by pt_tucker



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comfort, Competition, Gen, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Post-Season/Series 01, Self-Doubt, Training, Yakov is a good coach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 03:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12004215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/pseuds/pt_tucker
Summary: Yuri is a good skater. He knows this.Viktor is just better.(Yakov disagrees.)





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! My first YOI fic! Hope you all enjoy. :3

One more jump. If he could add one more jump to his routine-

Yuri hissed as he came down at the wrong angle and lost his balance, toppling over onto his side. 

“Yuri!” Katsudon rushed over while everyone else waited with baited breath to see if this time, this fall, would be the end of him. Even Viktor had stopped to watch. 

Yuri snarled. As if he’d allow something so stupid to ruin him!

He smacked the pig’s hand away when he reached out to help. “I’m fine, stupid!”

Yuuri pulled his hand back. “Yuri…”

“Sounds like someone’s not having a good day~” Viktor all but sang as he skated a circle around them. 

“Viktor.” Yuuri frowned. 

“What? It’s true!” he said before jumping. He landed it perfectly, as if to emphasize Yuri’s failure. 

“Ignore him. He’s not having a good day, either.”

Viktor not having a good day? As if! He wasn’t some child that needed to be coddled with lies!

Yuri shoved him as he stood. “Out of my way, pig!” He immediately regretted the action as Yuuri fell backwards and landed on the ice.

“Yuuri!”  
“Yuri!”

Viktor and Yakov’s voices rang out as the former raced back over and the latter shook his head and pointed towards the outskirts of the rink. Yuri scowled and stomped off the ice. He ducked his head as he walked past Yakov, his hair falling forward to cover his face as he bit his lip. He hadn’t heard Katsudon get up yet. 

“I’m okay, really. You don’t need to hold me.”

The tension in his shoulders released.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss it better?” Viktor crooned.

“We’re in public!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you keep your clothes on this time.”

The tension came back with a vengeance as he grabbed a nearby water bottle and threw it at them. “Perverts!”

He refused to acknowledge the pig’s flush. Or his own.

“Viktor, get back to your routine!” Yakov yelled.

Viktor ignored him in favor of whispering things into Katsudon’s ear that only the two of them could hear. Things that made Yuuri’s face redder and redder and redder. Yuri scowled. Disgusting.

Yakov was rubbing his temple and muttering about not being able to murder skating’s living legend as he came over to stand beside Yuri. “He’s the World Champion. I can’t, I can’t.”

Yuri smirked and leaned against the short wall that lined the ice.

“Are you going to sit there all day?” Yakov tried again when neither of them had moved.

“Yuuri’s hurt! He needs me to take him home and ~nurse~ him.” Viktor rubbed his face against Yuuri’s cheek, not unlike a cat might. The comparison was insulting to cats.

“I really don’t. I’m fine.” Katsudon attempted to push him away. 

“I need to make sure! What will I do if you get injured?”

“I can’t, I can’t. He has more gold medals than the rest of us combined.” Yakov pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Viktor, I want you to do something for me,” Katsudon said, tilting his head and smiling.

“Hmmm?”

He cupped Viktor’s face with both of his hands and leaned in until their noses were touching. “I want you to skate for me.”

Viktor’s eyes went wide and then it was his turn to flush before he skated away at a speed that made Yuri see green. Damn, he was fast.

Katsudon smiled and shrugged at them as if to say ‘what can you do?’ before getting up and returning to his own side of the ice.

Yuri rolled his eyes. They could stop being _gross_ is what they could do. Even if he’d had someone of his own, someone like Otabek, just for example, he wouldn’t have sat around all day gazing into his beautiful brown eyes like some lovestruck fool, while drooling over his tight…tight uniform and…moaning…his name…

Yuri tore open one of the water bottles and chugged it. The cold water did little to cool him.

Yakov sighed. “They’re going to be the death of me. I just know it. So are you.” He glanced at Yuri and Yuri pointedly looked away as he wiped his mouth off on his sleeve. “What has gotten into you lately, Yurochka?”

“It’s those two being idiots!” he shouted out onto the ice. Katsudon had the decency to look apologetic while Viktor didn’t even acknowledge him, too lost in his routine. Yuri glowered and took another swig of his water.

“They really should practice at different times when Viktor isn’t coaching.” Yakov sounded more weary than Yuri had ever heard him in all his time with that stupid silver-haired pervert. He focused on Yuri again. “But is that really the only reason? Or is it something else?” His eyes were far too knowing.

Yuri didn’t answer. Instead, he toyed with his bottle and tried to watch Viktor without making it seem like he was watching Viktor. The man’s ego was large enough without the extra attention.

Viktor, who was so damn perfect. More than perfect. The bottle crinkled in his hand as he squeezed it. Yuri had thought after his gold at Barcelona that he’d at least stand a chance, but it was quickly becoming obvious exactly why Viktor was known as a living legend.

When Yuri jumped, Viktor jumped higher. When Yuri spun, Viktor spun faster. For every two steps in his sequence, Viktor did three.

Yuri hissed as Viktor landed yet another quad flip. As if it were nothing.

_Monster._

“You know,” Yakov said, his voice suspiciously light, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Vitya work this hard. When he’s not fooling around, that is.” He sent Viktor a look that could not have been more unimpressed if he’d been paid for it.

“He always works hard,” Yuri muttered, because it was true. As much as he wished he could scream at the idiot for his lack of effort, in that, at least, he had nothing to say. 

“Yes, but this time it’s different. This time he’s afraid. He has to work extra hard if he doesn’t want his rival to take his place.” 

Yuri frowned. “You mean his rivals.”

Katsudon was practicing his step sequence over on the left side of the ice, far away from where he might accidentally get in the way of Viktor’s routine.

“No, I mean rival.” Yakov patted his head. Yuri growled and took it. At least Yakov wasn’t usually a touchy-feely idiot like _some_ he could name. “Do you think the man who spends his every free moment worshiping the very ground Yuuri Katsuki walks upon fears staring up at him from second place?” Yakov shook his head. “He would put him there himself if Yuuri would not scold him for it.”

Yuri couldn’t argue with that. It was only due to Katsudon’s insistence that Viktor had returned at all. He’d been more than content to spend the rest of his days watching Yuuri from the sidelines with that ridiculous lovestruck expression of his. 

“He either wants Yuuri to beat him, or to beat Yuuri and impress him with his medal,” Yakov said.

Yuri pulled a face. He knew what they did with those medals. Those two perverts needed to pay more attention to what they were saying while out in public. 

“Of course, it’s not just about the medal,” Yakov added. 

Yuri snorted at the understatement. Viktor skated every routine as if he were skating for Yuuri alone, and Yuuri did the same. It only made things worse. Maybe if Yuri had someone of his own to motivate him… He bit his lip.

“A Viktor Nikiforov who skates for love is terrifying, no?” Yakov said, as if reading his mind. 

He nodded once, reluctantly. There was no point in denying it when it was obvious Yakov already knew the true reason he was so frustrated with their combined practices. Standing beside Viktor as a competitor for the first time, right when Viktor had gained a sudden burst of motivation…the difference between them was painful.

He willed his voice not to crack as he crushed the bottle between his fingers. “I can’t beat him.” 

It hurt to admit it, but Yuri wasn’t one to live on false hope. He’d been skating his whole life. He knew what he could and could not do.

“No? What have we been talking about all this time? I am telling you, you can. And I am telling you, _Viktor_ thinks you can. He fears you will take his title from him.” Yakov paused, as if weighing his next words, before begrudgingly admitting, “He told me so himself. Privately. Do _not_ let him know I told you.”

“Telling me doesn’t make a difference if I can’t beat him.” Yuri threw his crumpled bottle to the side in a show of rage, though, deep down inside, he was, just a little bit, pleased. But only a little! 

“He hasn’t stumbled once today.” And Yuri had failed to make his final jump. Multiple times.

“No?” Yakov cocked an eyebrow before cupping his hands over his mouth and shouting, “Yuuri, be certain to stick out your behind some more! Let the judges see what you are made of!”

Katsudon, who’d been in the middle of stretching his arms, blinked and tilted his head to the side. “Huh?”

To the right, Viktor’s planned jump turned into a spin as he lost his balance and had to catch himself. 

“There you go, he stumbled. Now stop your whining and beat him!” Yakov gave him one final pat on the head before wandering back over to speak with Katsudon. 

Yuri waited until Viktor had finished his routine, the man somehow having made the impromptu spin seem like a natural progression of his previous step, before sliding back out onto the ice. Viktor scooted over to the side of the rink and leaned against the wall as he made room for him.

He feared him, did he? Yuri still wasn’t certain about that, but at least he wasn’t an idiot who got distracted by people yelling from the sidelines.

Music played in his head as he lifted his arms and started skating. Actual music would have been better, but with all three of them it would have turned into a garbled mess, and it was a bad idea to wear headphones when they might potentially run into each other at any moment. 

It didn’t matter. Music or no, it was as if the movements had always been meant to be performed. Performed by _him_. Each step, each spin, each jump - he made them all. He closed his eyes as he came up on his final jump and then opened them again when he landed it perfectly.

“Great job, Yuri!” Katsudon cheered, beaming at him.

Yuri flushed and looked away. Idiot. He glanced towards Yakov, who gave him a nod, and then Viktor, who frowned.

Hmph. They were all idiots. It was the first time he’d managed the entire thing without any missteps. It’d only mean something if he could do it again.

Still, he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching.

“Oh, Yuriiiiii~” Viktor sang as he skated over and spun him around. “You did so well! We’d all better watch out! The little kitten is growing claws!”

“Get your hands off me, old man!”

Viktor ignored him as he continued to spin them both. “Soon the kitten will be all grown up and then what will I do?”

Yuri growled and then blinked and leaned back as Viktor was suddenly in his face.

The facade dropped as the grin disappeared and his voice dipped into something genuinely threatening. “You think you’re going to steal my gold from me, but I won’t let you.”

Yuri’s eyes widened and he took a step back involuntarily.

And then the grin returned as Viktor let go of his arms and spun around to go bother Katsudon. It was then that Yuri realized he’d been angled away from his ~beloved Yuuri~. 

He shuddered and crossed his arms as Viktor picked Katsudon up amid light protests and proceeded to skate around with him held overhead. Monster.

“Get back to work!” Yakov shouted.

“What? I can’t hear you over the sound of my beautiful Yuuri’s radiance.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Yuri snapped. 

Viktor hummed and lowered Yuuri to his lips. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri chided, though he looked far from upset as they came together.

Yuri stuck a finger in his mouth and pretended to gag.

“Don’t make me come out there!” Yakov was rubbing his temple again.

Yuri ignored them as he went back to his routine. He’d practice while the idiot cuddled his piggy for comfort, and then he’d laugh in his face when he beat him.

He feared him, did he?

Well he _should._

**Author's Note:**

> So, what'd you think? Comments & kudos are love. <3
> 
> Also, if anyone has any recs for fics relating to them training or actually competing post-season, feel free to leave them in the comments! I'm _super_ fascinated with how that's all gonna go down in season two and I'd love to get some fanfic to hold me over until then.


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